King Lack-Beard
by Jacquleine Schaeffer
Summary: A version of the Grimm tale King Thrushbeard, only instead of the King having a beard he doesn't have one. (Beards bug me.) After a haughty Princess mocks her suitors to humiliation she is forced to marry a beggar. What will become of her? *COMPLETED*!!!!
1. Mocking Suitors

Miranda rolled over lazily and moaned. Looking out of her sunny window, she grumbled a bit and dove back under the covers. She didn't want to get up. She heard Rose come in but she pretended to be asleep. Maybe she'd leave her be. No such luck.  
  
"Miss Miranda, Miss Miranda!" Rose cried, shaking her. "Wake up Miss Miranda! You have to get ready for the suitors!" Miranda grumbled and sat up, rubbing her eyes.  
  
"I'm up! I'm up!" She snapped grouchily, angry her sleep was interrupted. She felt her way out of bed and Rose pulled a dress on her.  
  
"Wake up!" Rose exclaimed, forcefully brushing her hair. She pushed her a little and Miranda nodded over, waking up a little more. The pain she felt from the brushing was enough to wake her up.  
  
"Ouch! Will you be a little gentler, please, Rose?" She snapped once again, wincing at the pain it was causing her. "God! You know Rose, I am a princess, and if you displease me even once I could have you fired, or even killed. So don't get on my bad side."  
  
Miranda was a beautiful but haughty Princess of the kingdom of Geraldia, and every suitor form across the land came to seek her hand. Most were very handsome, charming men, but Miranda turned her nose up at all of them, insisting they were not good enough.  
  
Every day it was the same ritual; the long line of suitors would file in, carrying all of their goods to woo the beautiful woman. Every day they would come in, dressed in their finery, standing in rank order: Kings, princes, dukes, earls. She would walk regally in, dressed in only the finest clothing. She would pass by every man and face each one, finding in him some flaw and making sport of it.  
  
Rose finished brushing her long dark blonde hair and put it up in an elegant style. Miranda stood up and walked to the door, awaiting the suitors. She was in an especially bad mood this morning, and couldn't wait to see what the day's suitors brought her.  
  
She waltzed down the stairs and met the long line of men. She came first upon the lowest ranks, the earls and dukes. She went up to the first man and laughed.  
  
"Ha! He's as round as a tub!" She jeered, looking at his enormous bulk. She went on to the next man, who was quite tall. "What a maypole!" She again laughed. She continued, the next man being very short. "Dumpling!" She cried. The fourth was too pale; she called out, "Wallface!" The fifth was too red, she called him cockscomb.  
  
Oh and on she went, until she reached the end of the line, having insulted each suitor personally. She came to the last man, the one of highest rank. She looked him up and down as he bowed. Despite his fine clothes and his handsome face, Miranda saw his flaw.  
  
"He has no beard!" She giggled, looking at the stubble on his face. "Such a powerful King and all he has is a little stubble? Ha! I shall call him Lack- beard!" She taunted and teased him, circling him and jeering. She went on teasing the King, humbling the kind man until he was completely humiliated. However, he stood unfeeling as if the words weren't piercing his heart. Her father and Mother were leaning over the balcony watching the scene unfold.  
  
"Miranda!" Her father cried. "What on earth are you doing to that kind King? Ungrateful wench!" He stormed down the stairs. "You don't deserve any of these kind gentlemen! By my word as a king I swear I will marry you to the next beggar that comes by this castle!" 


	2. Married to a Beggar

Miranda had shut herself up in her room for two days. The only person she would let in and out was Rose, who brought her food and helped her wash.  
  
After two days had passed, Miranda decided her parents had suffered enough. After all, that's why she shut herself in her room in the first place. She knew they would be worried and sorry that she was in her room. She had done it before and had always gotten her way.  
  
Smiling smugly, she pulled on a violet dress with sliver trim and went down the stairs. Mother and Father were in their usual places, sitting on their thrones having entertainment from the local villagers. When Miranda entered the hall, the couple looked up.  
  
"Miranda!" The King smiled, walking over to her. "I am so happy to see you."  
  
"I'm sorry daddy." Miranda pouted a little. It had worked before, why couldn't it work for a fifth time?  
  
"It's ok, dear girl. Come, stand by your mother and me and listen to this traveling musician play. He is exquisite."  
  
"Alright, daddy." She followed her Father back to his throne and stood watching this man play a small mandolin and sing beautiful songs for them. After every song the Queen would laugh and clap and beg for another, but Miranda just rolled her eyes pompously, sighed and shifted her feet. After performing a dozen wonderful songs, for he was quite a good singer, she kneeled down to the King and Queen's feet and spoke to them in a musical and merry voice.  
  
"Good King and Queen, I have preformed for you all of my best songs. But I am a poor man, and music doesn't bring in a lot of money. Could I beg of you a boon?"  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence and the King stood up.  
  
"I have something better to give you. You have sung so well that I will give you my daughter for your wife."  
  
Another uncomfortable silence, the Miranda screamed.  
  
"DADDY!!!!!! You can't possibly give me to THIS man! This beggar, this dirty fellow!"  
  
"Miranda, I have sworn to give you to the first beggar, and I will keep my word." Miranda started wailing at his feet but he stood tall and regal as if it wasn't bothering him at all. He turned to a servant. "Go fetch the parson to marry these two."  
  
The servant went off, and came back with the parson, and Miranda was married to the beggar right there, while she the whole time was wailing and weeping. The father was firm and cold, and even though it broke his heart to see her married to a beggar he knew it would teach her a good lesson. A tear fell down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away as he spoke, "Now get ready to go: you must not stay here, you must travel with your husband."  
  
And Miranda was dragged away by two guards, kicking and screaming, and she was taken away in the cart by her new husband, whose name was Anthony. She sat next to him in the small broken-down cart, trying to contain her shock and sadness, but it seemed to bubble up and make its way out. Tears streamed down her face, she gasped for air. Anthony looked over at her, uncomfortable with the situation. He tried to make conversation.  
  
"So...Miranda, do you like to sing?" Miranda seemed to ignore him, she was whimpering and sniffling. "I do. I suppose that's why I'm a musician. That's how I make my money, you know, I just decided to do what I love, and the money follows, though not that much..." He trailed off, noticing that Miranda wasn't even listening. They drove the rest of the way in complete silence. 


	3. Short Tempers and Arguments

"Pray tell," Miranda finally spoke, when they had come to a thick, lush wood, "Whose is this wood?"  
  
"Well, it's actually King Lack-Beard's. If you had married him, you could have ruled over it."  
  
"Ah! Unlucky wretch I am!" Miranda moaned. "If I had just married him, I wouldn't be living in squalor, but in a castle with lots of rich gowns and I could have been ruling over all of this!"  
  
They continued on, until they came to some rolling green meadows, smooth and soft with corn and vegetables growing in them. Miranda could smell them, and as her stomach growled she asked,  
  
"Who owns these meadows?"  
  
"Why, King Lack-Beard does. He owns pretty much all of the land around here. I live in his country you know."  
  
"Am I stupid!" Miranda again whined. "I wish I would have accepted him! Then I could be eating these vegetables right now, all steamed and delicious with maybe some tender meat."  
  
"Well, you shouldn't have mocked him so. He is a very kind and benevolent king and he really loves his people."  
  
"Oh, shut up." Miranda snapped crossly. They continued on, until they came to a prospering and bustling city. Miranda again asked,  
  
"Pray tell, whose city is this?"  
  
"It's King Lack-Beards! I told you he owned all of the land around here."  
  
"God, how stupid I am!" She whimpered, "Right now I could be taking a hot bath, and I could have a closet full of nice clothing and I could be warm and rich instead of being in the poor state I am in now."  
  
"Do you ever stop complaining?" Antony snapped. "Is that all you care about? Rich clothing and a warm bed and money? Are you even capable of loving someone? Can you imagine if someone loved you, and you didn't love them back? You get hundreds of suitors every day, and most love you, yet you reject every one. You are a self-centered, spoiled brat. I hope someone teaches you a lesson someday."  
  
Miranda was quite taken aback by Antony's outburst. No one had ever spoken a harsh word to her, and she was quite surprised by it. She just stared, aghast, at Antony, who looked forward, unmoving, cold and rigid. She looked forward too, and they sat coldly silent towards each other until they reached a tiny, crude hut built of salvaged pieces of wood and mud.  
  
"Why are we stopping?" Miranda finally spoke.  
  
"We are home."  
  
"What? Home? THIS shack? This awful piece of squalor?"  
  
"Yes, this awful piece of squalor is our home." Antony's voice was slightly edgy; he was getting annoyed.  
  
"Well, where are the servants?"  
  
"Servants? Ha! That's a good one. What you want to do must be done yourself."  
  
"No. I refuse to live in such a paltry place. I will not move." She sat stubbornly, crossing her arms and pouting.  
  
"Come on, I'm in no mood for arguing." Antony sighed, exasperated.  
  
"No!" Miranda cried, pouting even more.  
  
"Fine! You act like a child, you'll be treated like one!" Antony yelled. With the remark he lifted her from the cart and slung her over his shoulder while she kicked and screamed like a five-year-old. 


	4. Compassion and Feeling

Thank you to all my reviewers. You are great people. Yes you are. Here, have a cookie. Is that good? I bet it is. Ok, let me stop. Well, I believe that there were a couple of comments on how my chapters were short. (Or maybe it was one, I can't remember. Whatever.) So, by the request of those people, I will try to lengthen my chapters.  
  
Also-I know it's been a very long time since I last updated. Well, this is because my internet is all screwed up so I can't use my computer for the internet. I have to use my stepdad's, which isn't fun because he doesn't trust me and he thinks I'm going to download porn or something. (I'm not!) So it might be a while in between updates, but when it's updated I think it will be worthwhile as they will be humongous updates. And it will never be given up. This is never a lost cause. So, without further ado, I give you chapter four of King Lack-Beard.  
  
Antony massaged his temples, attempting to avoid the sulky glare of Miranda. For the past quarter of an hour, ever since he had dragged her into the house, she had been whimpering and staring at him in a most unsettling way. Finally, he couldn't take it. HE stood up.  
  
"Will you please stop staring at me like that?" He snapped.  
  
"What?" Miranda asked innocently, acting as if she had never done anything.  
  
"Never mind." Antony sighed. "Well, I suppose you don't know how to cook." Miranda stared at him quite blankly. "Didn't think so. Well, if you are to live here with me, you must learn how to take care of yourself. There are servants no more. You must do things for yourself now."  
  
Miranda didn't take this well. She started sobbing again.  
  
"It isn't fair!" She whined, jerking about in her chair. "I can't believe daddy made me marry a common beggar! This is so unfair!" She again jerked, reminding Antony very much of a small child. He began to laugh. He tried to repress it, but the more he tried the more it began to bubble up. Soon the small cottage was filled with the sounds of Antony's laughter. Miranda was quite taken aback. This hadn't been the reaction she had expected. She stopped her temper tantrum and stared at Antony.  
  
She was sure he had gone mad the way he was laughing. Maybe she had gone too far. She watched as he doubled over and fell on the floor, laughing so hard tears were streaming down his face. Antony didn't know why he was laughing so hard, it really wasn't that funny. He knew Miranda must think him mad.  
  
As it is with the human race, when one laughs, others tend to laugh, even if they don't know what's so funny. Not soon after Miranda started watching Antony rolling on the floor with laughter she started to laugh too.  
  
"What's—what's so funny?" She said in between giggles.  
  
"It's—it's your tantrum!" Antony gasped. "You—you looked so—so much like—like—like………."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like—like—a child! The way you were jerking about so! I couldn't help but laugh—laugh at you childish--behavior!"  
  
Miranda stopped laughing.  
  
"Well, that's not funny!" She cried, placing her hands on her hips.  
  
"Yes—yes it is!" Antony managed to suppress his peals of laughter and got up, brushing off his pants.  
  
"Why was my behavior so funny?" She seemed a little hurt.  
  
"Well, it was just the way you were jerking about, it reminded me of a child's temper tantrum."  
  
"I don't see why that's funny." Her voice was slightly edgy.  
  
"Well, it was."  
  
"No, it wasn't!" She screamed. "I don't see why you draw from my misery your personal amusement."  
  
"I wasn't!" He yelled back.  
  
"Why do you think the way I act is so funny?" She cried, tears welling up in her eyes. "It's not fair!" She ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Antony followed, for even though she was a brat he was still concerned for her well-being.  
  
"Curse this!" Antony yelled at himself. "Why are you running after her? She is a brat who needs to be taught a lesson!" But he pressed on, cursing his compassion for her. It was growing dark, as he walked down the dirt road to the stream. There he saw her, sobbing at the water's edge. "Come on, Miranda."  
  
"No."  
  
"For once can you not argue with me? Just please come back to the house with me."  
  
"No!"  
  
"God, why don't you quit sulking for once and just come back?"  
  
"Because."  
  
"Because?"  
  
Miranda sighed. "Look, Antony………." She paused. That was the first time she had ever called him that. "Look, I was taken away from my home. I left my mother and father and the only life I've ever known. I was taken to a far- off village to live with a complete stranger for the rest of my life, doomed to a life of menial labor. All on one day. I think you might understand why I am so upset." She sighed, and after he said nothing, continued. "And to think, if I just hadn't been such an awful person to those suitors. I could be sleeping in my own bed right now, eating at a feast, or watching an amusing jester."  
  
Antony sat down beside her and put a comforting arm around her. He thought that perhaps, even though the last part of her statement had been superficial, that maybe, just maybe, there might be the slightest hint of human feeling and compassion in her. 


	5. Baskets

It's quite pleasing to know I have so many fans of this story! Quite pleasing indeed! Well, I told you my internet was broken so I can't see your names at the moment, but you people know who you are and you are wonderful people. Keep 'em coming!  
  
And also, I am attempting a new story, but I am not quite sure how to start it. But I just wanted to tell you that I was starting a new story in case you were interested.  
  
"Alright, now after you finish cutting up those carrots, you put them in the water." Antony was patiently showing Miranda how to cook a stew. She had lost her temper more than once, but Antony was determined not to lose his temper.  
  
"That seems easy enough." Miranda stood at the table, knife poised dramatically in the air. She let it down and slowly and carefully chopped up the orange vegetable. Antony nodded once each time she cut. "Ouch!" She suddenly cried, dropping the knife with a huge clatter. She stuck her finger in her mouth.  
  
"What, did you cut your finger?" Antony asked, alarmed.  
  
"Ouch—yes, I did."  
  
"Here, let me get a cloth." Antony ran and got a little piece of cotton, soaked it in water and, took Miranda's hand in his. He gently stroked the bleeding cut with the piece of wet cloth. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Yes, but—oh, what is the point of this?" Her voice rose and she pulled away from him. He could tell she was getting frustrated again. "I shouldn't be doing this! I'm a princess!" She swelled up and looked dangerously angry towards him.  
  
"Not anymore." He exchanged her threatening manner for his. She had no argument for this; and lost, she stood looking at him.  
  
"Alright. I'll try not to lose my temper anymore. But really, it's hard." She sighed and slumped into a chair. He could tell by her edgy movements she was very agitated, and really frustrated.  
  
"Look, Miranda, cooking isn't that hard once you get the hang of it. Here, I'll finish supper tonight, but you have to promise to try tomorrow as well."  
  
She sighed again. "Al—right. I'll TRY. But I can't guarantee anything."  
  
"Wonderful." Antony walked to the carrots and finished cutting them, then put them into the water and opened the cupboard. "Oh dear."  
  
"What is it?" curious at Antony's statement, Miranda stood up and tried to see what he was worried about. "What is it, Antony?"  
  
"We're out of food."  
  
"What? Well, what are we going to do?"  
  
"Well………" Antony sighed and turned to her. "We can't go on thus, spending money and earning nothing. Let's see, what might you be able to learn? I know! Weaving baskets."  
  
"Weave baskets?" The thought seemed atrocious to her.  
  
"Yes. It's not that hard to learn, the supplies are inexpensive, and we could earn a nice profit doing it. Yes, that is a great idea. I will get the supplies for you tomorrow."  
  
"Well, what are we going to do now though? We have no more food."  
  
"We have a stew of carrots and potatoes, and a little stale bread. It will do for tonight."  
  
"Very well."  
  
"Alright." Antony took out a few bowls and poured them out some thin, meager stew and gave her a piece of bread. After eating this scant meal, they settled down and went to bed: Miranda on the bed, and Antony on the floor.  
  
**  
  
In the morning, Antony set out early to go get some willows. While away, Miranda tried as best she could to clean house, but to Antony's dismay when he came back there were goose feathers flying everywhere and Miranda was standing in the corner of the room with a broken pillow in her hand. Apparently she had tried to air out the pillow and had shaken a bit too hard.  
  
She was terrified he would get angry, but he knew she was trying and tried not to be too angry. He just laughed, put down his bundle of willows and helped her clean up.  
  
Soon after they were done, Antony led Miranda to the table and explained to her how to weave the willow branches into baskets. Miranda was a fast learner, and quickly made a basket, then two, then three.  
  
All right. That's enough for me today. I know all that will happen, but I am just tired of writing today. The words aren't coming. I suppose it's just because I am listening to cool music, which is distracting me. Oh, well, I promise a new chapter very soon.  
  
And I'm thinking of writing another story, what do you think? Do you have any suggestions? Maybe I could try something funny, but I'm not very good at that. Hmmm. I don't know. Well, I'll keep you posted. 


	6. Walking to Town

Thanks again to all of my LOVELY reviewers. I especially thank the person who called this story a cutie*patootie. (Sorry I can't remember your name.) Now on to chapter 6…  
  
"Ouch!" Miranda yelped. Antony had gotten used to the sound by now.  
  
"What is it?" He automatically asked.  
  
"These willows…they're bruising my fingers."  
  
"Let me see." He got up from the book he was reading to take a look at her hands. He didn't expect much, perhaps a small callous or two, as he knew his wife tended to exaggerate. But when he did indeed take a look at her hands, they were black and blue and very tender from tiring tedious hours of long work weaving the baskets.  
  
"Oh, dear, your hands, they are so bruised!" He cried.  
  
"No, really? I thought they were fine, that's why I called you over." Miranda sarcastically commented. Antony rolled his eyes.  
  
"I see this kind of work won't do. Hmmm, what else could we do to make money?"  
  
"I don't have any idea."  
  
"I know!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You could spin!"  
  
"Spin?"  
  
"Yes, spin!"  
  
"No! Absolutely not! I have never spun in my life; that's poor people's work!"  
  
"Uh, last time I checked, we were poor."  
  
"No, I will not do it. I will not spin." Miranda plopped down on the floor in another one of her tantrums.  
  
"Please, Miranda?" Antony got on his knees and begged. "Please? Would you rather spin or starve?"  
  
"Starve."  
  
"Miranda." She sighed at his stern voice.  
  
"Fine. I'll spin."  
  
"Great. Now, I believe I have my grandmother's spindle in the closet, I'll get it." He walked over to the little closet, opened it up and after a few minutes of digging pulled out an old, weathered, rusty spindle. "We can walk into town and get some thread, and I'll teach you how to spin. Come on, let's go."  
  
~~*~~  
  
"Are we almost there?" Miranda whined.  
  
"Only a few more miles. Hurry up, or we won't get there for a week!"  
  
"I'm tired."  
  
"Tough luck. Now come ON." His patience was once again wearing thin.  
  
"Fine." She quickened her pace a little but continued whining. "I'm hungry."  
  
"Well, you wouldn't be if you'd hurry up so we can get into town."  
  
"I DON'T WANT TO WALK ANYMORE!!" She suddenly screamed so loud birds flew out of the trees in alarm. She then sat down again, right in the middle of the road, and clasped her chin in her hands.  
  
"Come on, Miranda, we don't have TIME for this. Please, just come on."  
  
"NO! Leave me BE."  
  
His patience was worn right through.  
  
"Fine, I will. I'll leave you be, You stay here in the middle of the road to be run over by carts and I'll bring back your body on my way home." He paused and let her soak this in. "Goodbye." He turned, and left her to sit in the dust.  
  
"Antony! You're not actually going to let me stay here? Antony? ANTONY!" She got up and ran after him. "Antony, I'm sorry. I really am. I'm just tired, I'm not used to walking this much."  
  
"It's okay. Hey, you know what?" Antony asked.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I bet you can't beat me into town."  
  
"Hah! I bet you I can. I may be a princess, and I may be tired, but I can kick your sorry ass any day of the week."  
  
"You said ass."  
  
"Well, I'm not a princess anymore, am I?"  
  
"Well………" Antony laughed. "No. All right. On your mark. Get set--" Antony was interrupted by Miranda running off. "Hey! You cheated!"  
  
Ok, that's all. Yes. That's all for today. Hey hey. Nonny nonny. Woo! Thank you again to all of my reviewers, Mirada is getting useful (Francesca), and I will write more for your enjoyment. Thank you. Your writer,  
  
Dorie Wilson aka Jacquleine Schaeffer.  
  
Does anyone wonder where I got my Pen Name? Ask me and I'll tell you. 


	7. In town

Yay! I'm glad someone actually read my author's note at the beginning! Well, my pen name was gotten this way: My middle name is Jacquleine and my street is Schaeffer Street. That's also called your "soap opera" name. You get your soap opera name by taking your middle name and street name. Another example is my best friend. Her soap opera name would be Maure Woodsdale. Another friend would be Emily Woodmark. Another Louise Rodman, and another Marie Foster-Sheldon. My stepdad's would be Lupton Schaeffer. Isn't Lupton a funny name? You folks at home can try it too. Tell your friends. It's mad fun.  
  
And thanks you very very much to the person who said my stories were better than 90% of the stories on this site. That made me feel very happy and special, and I just want to say you're the kind of people that make this world a better place to live. For me, at least.  
  
Jalla-I am glad you like my stories! *Thankyouverymuch!*  
  
Well, thanks for listening to that. Now for the good stuff: story time! Yay!  
  
Miranda won.  
  
"You cheated!" Antony laughed.  
  
"You should have." Miranda laughed back. Antony looked at her as if not wanting to admit she was right.  
  
"Never mind. We have to find some yarn."  
  
He led her into the bustling city market. Miranda was intoxicated by the smells of delicious food, the colors and textures of exotic fabrics from all over the world, and gold and silver so fine it was fit for a king. Miranda felt a tad homesick, the sights and smells reminded her of her old home. She thought of the velvety and silky dresses, the all night banquets and parties and balls.  
  
She sighed sadly as Antony took her to a small dirty stand where an old woman sat selling spools of thread. Carefully, he selected three spools of thread: White, brown and purple.  
  
"Purple?" Miranda asked. "But that's the most expensive spool there. And purple is the color of royalty, which we are certainly not."  
  
"Well, purple is a nice color, and it will fetch more at market, especially since it's such an attractive shade of purple."  
  
"Very well."  
  
Antony, all politeness and cordiality, gave the old woman the money for the thread. Miranda watched him so this. She noted his sincere courtesy. He wasn't so bad; he was a gentlemen and sensible. He was also wise and always knew right.  
  
He walked up to her and they walked off. They strolled along the dirt road.  
  
Miranda looked up at the walls the market stands were leaned against. Behind those walls was King Lack-Beard's castle.  
  
"So that is the King's castle." She said.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Is he there right now?"  
  
"Um, no, actually, the last I heard he was off on vacation in the woods."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Hunting, I suppose. Maybe he has one of those rustic lodges."  
  
"Like father used to have. We would go out there every summer." The castle loomed up, the sun hitting the white stone and creating an almost godly glare. The castle almost shined and Miranda thought once again of the horrible way she had treated the inhabitant of the castle.  
  
"Oh, dear." She moaned, clutching her stomach.  
  
"What? What is it, dear?" Antony asked, supporting Miranda.  
  
"Nothing………nothing." She gasped, standing up. "I just, I just feel so guilty for what I have done."  
  
"What?"  
  
"The way I have been so mean to all of these people. I mean, all of my suitors, and such."  
  
"It's all right."  
  
"And to think, if I hadn't been so bad, I would still be at home. Maybe taking a bath or talking with my friends."  
  
"Miranda, you HAVE to let go of that life. It's over now. Now, you know if I could I would give you anything you wanted, but I can't, so we have to make the best of what we've got."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes." He smiled. "Now come on, let's go home and learn how to spin, eh?"  
  
Miranda laughed. "Ok." She was beginning to like Antony. Sure, she was poor, but Antony made her feel as if that didn't matter. For the first time in her life, Miranda lost her pride, even if it might have been for a few seconds.  
  
You guys like it so far? Miranda is slowly losing her pride, which is good. And she likes Antony! How is that for a shock? Ok, it's not THAT big of a shock. Antony is cool, is he not? Heehee. I'll post more soon. 


	8. Pots and Pans

*yay*! Reviews! I love reviews! Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love your reviews. Thanks to the person who said my characters are "fleshed out" that's what I was going for, I like when the people have depth and personality. Yayness. Well, without further ado here is chapter 8…  
  
When they arrived at their lowly hovel, Antony led Miranda inside and they set to work.  
  
"So after you get the thread onto the spindle, push the pedal and wind the thread around the wheel."  
  
"That's it?" Miranda laughed at the seemingly simple task. "So once it's spun what do you do with it?"  
  
"Well, it can be used for cloth and things like that."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Antony handed her the spool of purple thread and pulled out her stool for her. She took the edge of her worn and dirty skirt daintily and sat at the stool, acting dramatically as if she still was a princess sitting at her throne and not the poor wife of a beggar.  
  
She looked at Antony and laughed, then started to spin.  
  
She spun and spun. She spun late into the night until she was nodding off at the spindle and Antony had to drag her to bed.  
  
*~~*  
  
The next morning, feeling refreshed from her sleep, Miranda awoke and started spinning again. She noticed her fingers starting to hurt, but ignored it. Her head was starting to ache from watching the same thing for hours. The thread, just move forward, forward, forward. She felt ill and saw the thread was turning red.  
  
Gasping, she looked down at her fingers guiding the thread. They were cut and bleeding. She gasped again and stood up, knocking over the stool with a terrific clatter.  
  
"What? What is it?" Antony asked, looking up from his book.  
  
"My—my hand, it's—it's—it's………"  
  
"What? What is it Miranda?" He tossed his book dramatically on the ground and ran over to her. "What's wrong?" He said, taking her hand.  
  
A tear rolled down her cheek, and she gritted her teeth to try and block out the pain. "I don't think I'm cut out for spinning."  
  
"I'll say. Come here." He guided her outside to the well, and he drew some water and cleaned her wound with a piece of cloth. "You're right, maybe spinning isn't your thing, but you might just need to build up some calluses. Like when I play my mandolin. At first, my fingers were all sore and raw and bloody. But after a while, I got calluses on my fingers, which enabled me to play without pain. See?" He held out his hand to show the calluses on his fingers. She laughed a little, and took his hand.  
  
"Dirty fingernails." She laughed, taking some water and rubbing the dirt off his grubby hands.  
  
*~~*  
  
"Pots and pans!" yelled Antony a few days later. Miranda looked up from the fire.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Pots and pans! You can set up a trade in pots and pans!"  
  
"Pots and pans? Why?"  
  
"Because that doesn't hurt your hands, it involves little work and we can live off the money! You can sell the goods at the market or trade them for food."  
  
"No! Antony, I can't do it!" Miranda cried and got up.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I……..I just can't!"  
  
"Miranda, why can't you?" He stood up as well.  
  
"You wouldn't know!" She blubbered, and ran dramatically out of the room. Antony, of course, followed her down to the creek again.  
  
"Miranda," He said, sitting down next to her. "Just tell me. I might understand, you don't know. Don't assume. Just tell me."  
  
He lifted her head and looked at her, and for a few seconds they were both quiet. They felt connected. Then Miranda broke their gaze, sighed and looked away.  
  
"People from my father's court visit here all the time. They'll laugh at me if they see me. I will never live it down."  
  
"Miranda, you are too proud."  
  
"I know, but when I think of their jeering faces………oh, I just can't stand it!"  
  
"Miranda, do you know how many times I have been mocked by people who thought they were better than me? Many, many times. Sometimes it pains me. Sometimes I feel strong inside, because they think they are belittling me but really they are making me more resilient."  
  
"I know, and I am dreadfully sorry for doing so. I, well, I guess I will sell pots and pans. Hopefully, maybe no one from father's court will pass by. And if they do, and if they laugh at me, I'll remember your words. They aren't belittling me, they are making me stronger. Thank you Antony." She again sighed and leaned on Antony's shoulder.  
  
The two had settled down at the creek right as the sun was setting, and they quietly watched the beautiful streaks of purple and pink and orange run together in the sky until they became black and inky darkness and the stars came out and twinkled merrily.  
  
You like so far? Did anyone notice the teeny hint of romance creeping into the story? Hey, you knew it was coming. In the Grimm tale the guy the princess married was really kind of a jerk. But I made Antony cool. And he is.  
  
Leave more reviews!!!!!!!!!! Thank you. I appreciate it.  
  
-JS 


	9. The Drunk Soldier

To Chien-Thank you for saying my story was the opposite of sucking. I appreciate it. Jerks do suck, don't they? Glad you give my story two opposable thumbs up!  
  
Nina-That's the kind of thing you have to decide for yourself. (To be frank, when it comes to that kind of subject I tend to avoid it. I guess I'm too pure for fanfiction.) But, if I HAD to say, I suppose no. Two reasons: One, Miranda would never do that kind of thing unless she really loved the guy, and Two, Antony is too nice to make her do anything like that. God I am such a prude.  
  
On to chapter 9. Wow! Almost to the big one-oh!  
  
Miranda, after getting the numerous pots and pans, walked into town by herself and laid her blanket at the corner of the market.  
  
The first day went incredibly well for the poor girl. Many passerby, after seeing such a forlorn-looking and beautiful woman, took great pity on her. She, sitting there all dirty in rags, was a sight that went to many people's hearts. Almost everyone bought wares from her. She didn't even need to ask. Some people even paid their money and walked away without even taking the goods.  
  
Miranda was incredibly ecstatic after selling every last pot and pan after only a day. As the sun set, she collected her money in a kerchief and walked home. She couldn't wait to show Antony how well she had done. She was thrilled to see the look on his face.  
  
She didn't know why, but all of a sudden she found herself wanting to make Antony and herself happy. As she swung the tied up kerchief and whistled merrily, she realized that life wasn't so bad now that she had gotten used to it. Deep down she still longed for the days of parties and opulence, but she knew it was long gone.  
  
She missed her father and mother. Miranda sighed. She wished that she and Antony could live in her castle instead of in a hovel by the side of the road. Sighing once more, she continued on her way, seeing the light of the fire already twinkling from their house in the distance.  
  
*~~*  
  
"Antony!" Miranda cried, the moment she opened the door. "Look at all the money I made!" She held the satchel triumphantly above her head as if it were a trophy.  
  
"That's wonderful!" He said, taking the purse and dumping the contents on the table. Miranda looked at the silver and gold coins. Six months ago this would have been nothing to me, she thought, but look at me now. Drooling over a few piddly coins. "This can feed us for the next two weeks!" He said enthusiastically. He sat down and sighed. "I long for a pot-bellied pig. Do you suppose there is enough there for a pot-bellied pig?"  
  
"Since when have you had pot-bellied pig?" Asked Miranda laughingly. "You act as if you were a king." Antony looked at her a moment, his face full of horror for a split-second, then it went back to normal.  
  
"And I am." He said after a short pause. "King of this house! I may not have fine clothing or a feast every night, but I have enough food to fill my belly, clothes enough for my back, a roof over my head, and a lovely wife. What don't I have to make me a king?"  
  
"A title." Miranda said.  
  
"Ahh, but that is the only thing I don't have. And what do I need it for? I give it away, I do!"  
  
"But you don't have it!" Miranda laughed teasingly. "How can you give it away when you don't have it?"  
  
"I don't to everyone else, but to myself I have a title. And I give it away." Antony said. "For you. Now, how about that pot-bellied pig? I am sure there is enough here to get one! And a fresh lot of wares!"  
  
"Another set? But Antony!" Miranda wailed.  
  
"Just one more set. I promise." He said. "And next time no splurging. But tonight, we dine! Come, come, let's get some wine and our pot-bellied pig!"  
  
*~~*  
  
The next day Miranda, full of pork, set out for town again with a fresh lot of wares. She hoped to sell as many this day as she did the day before. She wondered what Antony was doing, and what he did while she was gone.  
  
Would he read? She didn't know many beggars who read, but he did. Reading was a privilege set for nobility, but Antony read avidly. She liked that quality. She never asked him, but had meant to. Probably worked as an apprentice, she thought. Shrugging, she continued on her way. Would he do his own work? Go out around towns and play for alms? That is what she supposed he did. After all, that is how she met him.  
  
Soon she arrived in town and set up her stand at the corner. Business started picking up as soon as she had settled down. She had sold three pots and was ready to sell more when she heard some galloping from around the corner. Before she had time to think, a drunken soldier came riding around the corner on his horse. Not exactly knowing where he was going, he ran right into her stand. She moved just in time, but when she came back after he had galloped off, the entire stand was smashed up, and every pan broken into a thousand pieces. 


	10. A new Job

Wow! So many wonderful reviews! My devoted fans are the greatest!  
  
Francesca-All drunk soldiers should be shot!? Harsh, don't you think?  
  
Anjali-No one has ever considered my stories to be comedies. Thanks, you made my day! But now I am going to be self-conscious and think, "Is that funny?"  
  
Nina-Well, I think your review was the most indignant out of all of them! I think if you gave that soldier a stern talking-to he'd shape up pretty darn quick! And as for the soothing-you'll see what happens in this chapter. And don't point out that pig roast thing to people, I don't want the ending spoiled for those who haven't read the story before, hehe.  
  
Spirit-Savior-Me? A professional? Why thank you!  
  
Ethereal angel-What does your name mean anyway? Poor Miranda indeed. I'm glad I'm keeping you on the edge of your seat.  
  
Maissa- You are not one of the only people who dislike this soldier fellow. I didn't know he would be so unpopular with my readers.  
  
Oh, well, let's get on to chapter 10.  
  
Miranda ran home sobbing. She was so upset as to what Antony would think. She stumbled into their little cottage, blind through her tears.  
  
"Antony?" She cried. "Antony, where are you?" The house wasn't too hard to search, as it was very small and had one room and a closet. Miranda couldn't find Antony anywhere. "Antony?" She cried again. Knowing he wasn't home, she sat on the floor and started to sob uncontrollably. All those pots ruined! She was lost and upset and needed comforting.  
  
Suddenly she heard galloping in the distance. She ran outside. "Antony!" She cried, thinking it might be him. Alas, it was not. She saw, not far off in the distance, several men on horseback. Even though they were far away Miranda could see that they were obviously rich, having fine clothing and beautifully groomed horses.  
  
As they got closer, Miranda managed to control her sobs and stop sniffling. However, her eyes were still puffy and red, and her nose was also a deep shake of pink. She rubbed her sleeve on her nose one more time as the men approached. Miranda looked over at them once more, and then she identified the man in the lead.  
  
It was King Lack-Beard.  
  
Miranda panicked. How could she face this man?! She incredibly embarrassed because of the squalor she was living in, and because she wasn't sure she could face the man after treating him so abominably. Before he and what looked to be his advisors could come any closer, Miranda ducked inside.  
  
"You there!" She heard him cry as she slammed the door to their hut shut. The now closed door and breathed heavily. She was relieved she didn't have to face that young king.  
  
She rambled over to the table and sat down, crying some more. She wasn't sure if she could face Antony. She was so ashamed for what she had done.  
  
"Who puts their earthenware stall in the corner of the market, where everyone walks?" She yelled to herself. "That was very stupid of you!" She sighed, and ran her hand through her hair. She then looked at her hands.  
  
After a few months of hard work, her hands looked as if she had done enough labor for a lifetime. They were rough and dry. She had cuts all over then form spinning, and bruises for weaving. She was surprised herself. By the looks of her hands no one could have guessed she was once a princess.  
  
She was intently studying them when a loud, beseeching knock came on the door. Panicking, first she stood, then sat, then opened her mouth to say no one was home, then hid underneath the table. Then a rap came on the window, and she peeked from behind the tablecloth to see Antony knocking on the glass.  
  
Relieved, she stumbled out and opened the door for her husband.  
  
"Antony!" She said, tears streaming down her cheeks.  
  
"What is it, Mirada, what is it?" He asked, genuinely worried.  
  
"The pots………in market……….." She gasped, gaining momentum with her crying, "There was a soldier………he……….ran………..over them!" She managed to choke out, then fell into Antony's arms and sobbed hysterically.  
  
"Shh! Miranda, it's okay!" He soothed comfortingly, "It's all right. I've found a new job for you!"  
  
Miranda stopped crying, but continued sniffling and occasionally gasping for air. "Y-you have?" She asked.  
  
"Yes, as a kitchen maid in the castle."  
  
"Really?" She asked unbelievingly.  
  
"Yes, you can start tomorrow if you like. You can bring home scraps of food and a little money."  
  
"Really?" She asked again. "How did you do this?"  
  
"I met his majesty on the way home from work." Antony said.  
  
"You did?" She suddenly was very alarmed.  
  
"Don't worry, he's gone now." Miranda sighed, relieved.  
  
"So I start tomorrow?" She asked.  
  
"If you want to."  
  
"Yes! I do!" Miranda cheered, hugging Antony. "Thank you!" And she kissed him.  
  
Aww, there it is! Romance in full swing! Yay! I'll try to upload a new chapter before Easter. 


	11. Humbleness and Regret

Wow! I didn't know I'd get such a response so fast! This is wonderful! Your quick reviews got me to write another chapter right quick!  
  
Nina-Chaos! Yes sir-ee! Poo Poo King Lack-Beard, huh? Hee hee.  
  
Mischief Mayhem and Chaos-Well, if you make that comment about Miranda based on the first few chapters, you're wrong. Once you've read the whole thing she gets better!  
  
OYC-Adding more!  
  
Shrouded Spirit-Sweet? Thanks! Continuing!  
  
Chien-Very glad to hear this is still not sucking. I know I have short chapters; I am trying VERY hard to fix that.  
  
Also, this story is almost done. For those of you who enjoyed this, I think I am going to re-write another fairy tale. You'll find out which one later.  
  
On to chapter 11.  
  
Miranda sighed happily as she looked out of the window. The sun greeted her warmly. She kissed the sleeping Antony on the cheek, got up and pulled on her dress.  
  
"I'm going to work." She whispered to him. He stirred, and grumbled:  
  
"Goodbye, dear. I'll see you later." And he turned over towards the wall, falling asleep again. She grabbed a basket and headed out the door, shutting it quietly behind her.  
  
*~~*  
  
A few days later, after Miranda had started working at the castle's kitchen and already annoyed the cook several times, she decided to try her hardest and not displease the woman. She didn't want to risk getting fired. Her job was paying well, plus she got lots of leftover food which was making Antony happy. When she was finished she also got to go up and watch court through the crack in the kitchen door. One time she thought the king saw her, but it was just another lady standing in front of the door.  
  
"What can I do to help?" Asked Miranda, energized, as she entered the sweltering kitchen. The head cook looked at her with a look of contempt towards a new worker. Miranda tried her best to smile.  
  
"You can start by boiling those potatoes."  
  
"All right!" She said, marching over to the pot and dumping in some potatoes.  
  
"No!" Yelled to cook. She tried to put her hand in the pot, but the water was scalding and she burned her hand. She yelped in pain and jumped back. "You're………supposed…………to peel……………them…………..first!" She gasped, choking in rage. "Pull them out!"  
  
Miranda obeyed quickly, getting a spoon and pulling them out. She felt rather bad. Good going, she thought. First two minutes of the day and you get on the cook's bad side. "And do it fast, we have a lot of work to do."  
  
"Why?" Asked Miranda.  
  
"You should know. It's King Lack-Beard's wedding feast. He a-getting' married today."  
  
Miranda should have been upset. She should have thought, Oh, I should be marrying that king! But she didn't. She thought of Antony. She really loved him, and she considered him equal to any king.  
  
"Good for him." She mumbled, taking a knife and peeling the potatoes. She dumped them in one by one, each making a splash as it fell in.  
  
Soon she was done. She wasn't needed after that, for everything was done.  
  
"You can go up an' watch the feast, if you like!" Said the cook. "You're not needed. But here, take this basket of meat home. It's left over an' you an' your husband can have it."  
  
"Thank you kindly." Said Miranda, humbly taking the basket.  
  
She ran up the dank, dirty stairs from the kitchen to the grand hall. She had to hide in a different hall to see the grand feast, and the entrance had no door, so she just hid by the entranceway, watching the pomp and splendor of the feast. Everyone was dressed in beautiful, ornate clothes. She saw the King, King Lack-Beard, seated at the center of the long table. She tried to see his wife but couldn't spot her. She was watching all of this go on when she made direct eye contact with the king.  
  
Alarmed, she ran back down the stairs of the kitchen, out thorough the kitchen's back door and outside, into the palace garden. The cook yelled after her that she wasn't supposed to be in the gardens, but Miranda didn't care. She ran out into them, tears streaming down her face.  
  
She didn't have the foggiest notion why she was crying so, but she was. She ran through a maze of bushes and flowers. They all were a blur of greens and pinks and yellows. She ran deeper and deeper into the maze, completely losing sense of direction and time. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her chest, she realized she had been running for quite a long time, and sat down on a stone bench near a small pond.  
  
Sighing, catching her breath, she ran her hand through the water, looking at her reflection. Her puffy red eyes, her tousled hair, her dirty skin. She used to be a princess. But not anymore. She didn't even care. She loved Antony, and that was what mattered most. She knew she would give up the dresses and feats and baths for one conversation or one meager meal with Antony.  
  
There was only one thing she regretted. Her pride and scorn. She couldn't get it out of her head how badly she treated all of those suitors, especially Lack-Beard.  
  
"Curse me!" She cried, hitting the water. "Curse me for my pride and folly! Oh, I am so stupid! Why was I so mean? Why was I so cruel? Those men never did anything to me! And then look what I did to them! Abused them publicly to their face, when all the wanted was my hand. Perhaps some even loved me, and look what I did! I will never forgive myself for the cruelty! I shall understand if King Lack-Beard, or whatever his real name is, would never forgive me! Oh, spite! Oh, hell!"  
  
She sighed, stopping her verbal insults to herself, and fell quiet. She stood, and was ready to go back to the kitchen. She turned, and gasped.  
  
There, before her, stood none other than King Lack-Beard.  
  
Hehe! Are you dying to find out what happens? Well, probably one more chapter and this is done! 


	12. The Mystery Solved

My god! Nine reviews in two days? That's a record for me!  
  
Mischief Mayhem and Chaos-I stuck to the original version because I'm not creative. (Now you have to say I am, hee hee.)  
  
Ethereal Angel-I am glad you are happy the "Miranda loves Antony! Miranda loves Antony! Miranda loves Antony!"  
  
Spirit-Savior-Yes, you did get 50th reviewer!  
  
Shrouded Spirit-I didn't know that you'd want to get the next part so soon!  
  
Nina-I hope you didn't die! Did I save your life? I hope so. I hate giving mouth-to-mouth.  
  
OYC_Bambi-Read on to see what happens!  
  
Satar-Glad you like my story.  
  
Anjali Sahara-I like your name! I am glad you think my story is funny.  
  
Chien-Wow, when someone says oh HELL this is great, you gotta be proud!  
  
So here goes, the conclusion of KING LACK-BEARD……………………  
  
Miranda stood up, shocked, staring at the King in horror. How much had he heard? When had he come here? Why did he follow her? How did he know where she was? A million questions popped into her head but decided to ask the first one.  
  
"Wh-what did you hear me saying?" She stuttered. "Your majesty." She added, bowing as dignified as she could.  
  
"Oh, Miranda, you don't need to call me majesty." The King laughed.  
  
"How do you know--"  
  
"Your name, yes, well, I remember you."  
  
"As Princess Miranda?"  
  
"As the Princess. And now look at you. You must feel terrible."  
  
"What do you mean by that?" She snapped, turning back towards the pond.  
  
"I—I didn't imply anything mean." The King sounded apologetic. "I just meant you must feel terrible that you were forced to marry a dirty beggar and live the life of a peasant all because of your pride."  
  
"You know for a nice king you sure are a snob." She snapped again. "Dirty beggar? For your information I am married to the wisest and kindest man in all of your rotten kingdom. He is intelligent, kind and patient. He endured my snobbery and stubbornness and never let his temper go. I love that 'dirty beggar'. You must not have heard me talking."  
  
She didn't see that a tear was forming in the King's eye.  
  
"I'm sorry." He said. "I didn't know you loved him so much. What's his name? "  
  
She sighed. "His name is Antony. And he is better than any king. I used to be a snob, a brat who cared about nothing but possessions and pride. But he taught me more. He taught me many things. He taught me to be humble and kind."  
  
"Kind?"  
  
"Oh, please. Don't tell me you've forgotten what I said to you. I insulted you, and you did not deserve it. You had done nothing, and I have regretted treating you such ever since."  
  
"You have?"  
  
"Yes. Curse my pride, curse it! It was my downfall! Oh, do I feel rotten!" She kicked an invisible stone at her foot. She walked up to the King and looked him in the eye. "I am sorry for what I did. You didn't deserve it. I am sorry for any pain I have caused you. Now I must go." She turned to walk away but the King grabbed her arm. "Let me go!" She cried, pulling on her arm. "Now, please, I must be getting home!"  
  
"Wait." He said, "So would you say your pride is completely gone?"  
  
"Why, yes." She stopped struggling, stood and looked at him.  
  
"And you repent the fact that you publicly humiliated me and all of those other suitors?" He asked.  
  
"Yes, yes, yes, now will you let me go?" She asked. He let go of her arm, she rubbed it and looked at him. "What was that for?"  
  
"You have passed the test." He said simply.  
  
"What? What test?" She asked confusedly.  
  
"Fear me not." Said the King. "I'm not who you think I am." He pulled off his crown and Miranda gasped.  
  
"Antony?" She said in disbelief. She paused, looked away, looked at him, and then spoke, "What are you doing in the Kings clothes? How did you get here? What is going on?"  
  
"Miranda, I'm the King." He said.  
  
Miranda looked off behind him and thought about it. It made complete sense. She thought back, she recalled one time when she didn't want to go sell pots………  
  
"Miranda, do you know how many times I have been mocked by people who thought they were better than me?" She saw his wise and warm face, and then saw herself mocking him as a King.  
  
And another time, when she had made a lot of money from the market, and Antony was thinking of buying a pot-bellied pig………  
  
"Since when have you had pot-bellied pig?" She had asked. "You act as if you were a king." She remembered Antony looked at her a moment, his face full of horror for a split-second.  
  
And the time she had seen him on the road. Or, King Lack-Beard, and then Antony came into the house.  
  
He was always reading. Only nobles read. He was always gone. Probably at the castle, doing Kingly duties.  
  
"Oh, how could I be so blind?" She cried, falling over into Antony's arms. "So you ARE King, Antony? King Lack-Beard?"  
  
"I'd prefer Antony." He laughed. "But Lack-Beard DOES have a little charm to it."  
  
"Why did you do this?"  
  
"Why, to cure you of your pride." She leaned on his shoulder as the couple walked into the castle. "And it seems to have worked." He stopped, and held Miranda's hand in his, "But you do honestly love me?"  
  
"King or beggar, I love you, Antony!" She said, kissing him.  
  
So the two walked back to the court, Miranda was given a beautiful wedding- gown and their marriage was celebrated by all. Joy was in every face. The feast was grand, and all were merry; and I wish you and I had been of the party.  
  
The End. 


	13. The author tells all!!!

So, it's over.  
  
What next?  
  
I dunno.  
  
I hope you liked it. That was a fun fic. I thought I'd be glad to finish, but I miss it. I miss you guys, my reviewers, and your funny comments. Nina. OYC_Bambi. Satar. Anjali Sahra. Ethereal Angel. Francesca Mandrake. Maissa. Mischief mayhem and chaos. Shrouded Spirit. Spirit Savior. Chien, I think I'll miss you most of all. *Sniff* I'm gonna miss you guys!  
  
Well, I have selected a new story for my next fairy tale fanfic. (Drumroll, please) and the winner is……….Cat-skin!!!  
  
If you don't know the story, it's about a girl who her dad wants to marry because she looks so much like her mom, so she makes a fur mantle out of a million different furs and has three dresses, one like the sun, one like the moon, and one like the stars, and she puts them in a nut-shell and runs away. I might change the nut-shell part, but apart from King Thrushbeard this was my favorite fairy tale.  
  
Thanks you guys! Be expecting Cat-skin to come out some time in April! See ya! 


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